PT-LawMom

So I wasn’t going to blog this but I did promise that I would be real here about my divorce recovery process. Real to me and real to you. So here goes:

I cried again last week. Just burst into tears at something perfectly innocent and joking that Mr. V said. It wasn’t his fault. What he said wasn’t cruel or angry or anything. It was a joke that hit on something about which I apparently feel very vulnerable. But it made me realize that Chapin’s affairs (and the guys before him) have shaken my self-esteem to the core. And that is really not good. The thing is that it is such an irrational and dark emotion that comes up unexpectedly. I told Mr. V, “I don’t know why this keeps happening when it didn’t happen before.” And he, smartypants that he is, said, “Maybe now you have something you’re afraid to lose.” And that, I suppose, is healing. Because it means my heart is open to the experience. In other relationships I have been closed off. Erected walls to try to control things or minimize the fallout. Easier done when you’re not really invested in the relationship.

So Mr. V and I had a good talk. He listened. Really, really listened. And I don’t think he took it personally but he also called me on it and said that I need to stop questioning, worrying, etc., because the insecurity is undermining to the relationship. I don’t want to be *that* person. So I went back and looked at the chapter in my divorce recovery workbook on self-esteem and rebuilding it after divorce. It says, “Honoring your inner self is achieved by: focusing on yourself, controlling only that which is controllable, being compassionately detached, honoring and talking about your true feelings, having healthy and flexible boundaries, being honest and open, and being congruent. Healthy self-esteem can be manifested by actively working on accepting yourself as you are, rather than constantly criticizing or beating yourself, responsibly taking care of yourself rather than putting your own needs and wants aside in favor of another’s, and honoring your value as a unique individual on this earth, rather than trying to mold yourself to be like someone else.” Oh yeah. I am definitely worth it. And my child is worth it. And my future is worth it. And the healthy, loving relationship I want to have is worth it.

So… continuing therapy. Working on my self-esteem books. Working super-duper-uber hard to trust my heart, my feelings, and know that I cannot control the outcome of anything in my life. People come in and out of our lives for a reason. None of us know what that reason is. I must just learn to enjoy today and not worry about tomorrow. To feel comfortable in the love that is offered and not question whether it is a farce. Insecurity is a weapon, as damaging to others as it is to my own soul. And by allowing it to continue, I give Chapin and all the others before him WAY more power than they deserve. I am lovable and sweet and kind and wonderful. I need to believe that just as I love fully and without reservation, others can love me back in the same way and that, should they make a bad choice, it is just that. Their choice. No reflection on me and everything to do with their own insecurities and flaws. I will NOT be dragged down by this dark cloud. I am going to push it out.

Masks (poem from the divorce recovery book)
Don’t be fooled by me… I give you the impression that I am secure, that the water’s calm and I’m in command, and that I need no one. But don’t believe me.

My surface my seem smooth, but it’s a mask. Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence. Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, in aloneness. I panic at the thought of my fear and weakness being exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, to help me pretend and to shield me from the glance that knows.

But such a glance is precisely my salvation. And I know it. That is, if it’s followed by acceptance; if it is followed by love. It is the one thing that can liberate me, from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect. But I don’t tell you this. I’m afraid to. Afraid you’ll think less of me, that you will laugh, that you will see this and reject me.

So I play my game, my desperate pretending game. My survival depends on breaking through these walls. It depends on me… fighting my fear, shielding my mask, and showing myself to you.

You can help me. You can hold out your hand even when that’s the last thing I seem to want, or need. You can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. You can call me to aliveness. Each time you are kind and gentle and encouraging. Each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings. Very small wings. Very feeble wings. But wings.

With your sensibility and empathy, and your power of understanding, you can help break down the wall behind which I tremble and I can finally remove my mask. I can release myself from my shadow world of manic and uncertainty, from my lonely prison. So please do not pass me by. It will not be easy for us. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. I know it’s irrational to fight against the very thing I cry out for. But love is stronger than the walls and in this lies my hope.